Pizza Slices and Motorcycles

Sarah watched me quietly as I warmed up Wesley. Remembering what she told me during our last lesson, I tried to remember to keep the contact through my reins as steady and straight to the bit as I could; I wasnt supposed to cross over the neck and give an indirect aid, we were working on straight. As Sarah reminded me in this lesson, straight cannot come from an indirect rein aid, I had to think of the reins like a chute, and my job was to keep Wesley straight in the chute. This analogy worked much better for me than trying to simply keep my rein contact straight to the bit.

Further working with my rein aids, Sarah demonstrated to me how when I simply curl my wrists to engage the bit, it simultaneously makes my upper body curl downward, and hunch over. The idea is to stay tall and engaged in my body always and through transitions. So she demonstrated a better way to aid with the rein; come upward and out slightly, not a big dramatic movement like you might imagine, but simply picking up the reins in a different way that would not only still aid in a straight manner (and with no indirection), but also allow my body to maintain up and breathing. I could think of this as maintaining a pizza slice in my reins, with the base of the slice being at my hands, and the tip at the bit and mouth. This subtle change was amazing in the results I would get from Wesley.

Sarah kept reminding me to breathe throughout everything. To steady by body, and Wesley's, by breathing rhythmically. She further explained that studies have shown that horse's breathing rates are far slower and more methodical, more meditative, than in humans. If I could slow down my breathing and get closer to that of the horse's it relaxes the both of us. And when I do, it truly feels meditative. Breathe in through the nose for a few strides, breathe out through the mouth for another few. It was amazing.

I just had to remember to continue breathing while cuing for something. I found (Sarah pointed out) that in any cue I tend to hold my breath, which in turn makes me tense by body. I thought this through and discovered that I hold my breath in an anticipation for the horse not responding. Its as if I wait there for a minute and think, "I hope you are going to do as I ask". Even as I cue, I dont seem to truly expect that what I ask for is going to happen. It seems that I subconsciously think that the horse is always going to choose the wrong answer, and I will have to discipline as necessary. This realization made me somewhat sad.

Sarah simply reminded me to breathe through the transition, believe in the horse, because if I don't believe that the right answer will happen, then the horse can pick up on that doubt and subsequently, be doubtful, probably then resulting in the wrong answer.

When our trot, walk, and transition work was good, we walked for a few moments before moving into the lope. In this work was where the lightbulb really turned on.

"Half halt ... lope," Sarah would instruct for our lope transition. The idea in the lope departure is to get the outside drive leg engaged and ready to propel forward. The horse's energy needs to be back and on the drive leg to cleanly step into the lope. This is why we push the horse onto the outside drive leg, and therefore, onto the outside rein, while maintaining an arc to the inside. The half halt comes when you feel the outside drive leg just come forward before hitting the ground, because the half halt asks that drive leg to come into the ground and prepare to, well, drive. Half halt, lope.

As we loped a twenty meter circle, Sarah asked if I felt how Wesley was tipped at his back, much like a motorcycle looks when going around a corner. I could feel it, and I voiced that I feel like Milo moves like this a lot. Without really knowing how to correct it, I usually just picked up on the inside rein in an effort to lift the inside shoulder. In fact, Sarah said, it is not the shoulder we need to focus on, as that is just the result of the loss of the outside drive leg. Wesley was tipping over because he was not over his drive leg, and therefore the shoulder fell down. To capture that outside drive leg was to use the half halt at the precise moment, again. With the half half, I would also need to maintain that Wesley was on the correct arc, and my body was allowing it as well. Sarah instructed me to rotate my body into the direction of the horse's movement. Not tip my weight into the inside, but rotate towards the inside. As soon as I found that perfect degree of rotation, Wesley slowed down and stayed upright. I couldnt help but give myself a little grief as I poked fun at how simple it was and yet how I just couldnt seem to find this on my own.

After we caught some air at the walk, it was time to try the lope the other direction. Half halt, lope. Still riding without stirrups, this direction was suddenly harder and Wesley was much more quick and rushy. Sarah quickly noted that I needed to get my weight off of my outside (left) seat bone. This was causing Wesley to drop his shoulder to the inside, which further resulted in me sitting more deeply on the left seat bone. I noted that this is an extremely difficult direction for Milo and I, where I feel that because of the shim needed on the left side, I have to compensate for it by sitting deeper on that seat bone. And when I do, we motorcycle. Just as we had done the other direction, I needed to rotate my body into the direction of the horse's movement, and get my weight off of the outside. She further encouraged me to bring my outside leg further back, and create an arc in my body for Wesley to follow. As I tried to rotate my body in, I thought I was at the right degree when Sarah told me to bring my shoulders more into the turn. I turned by upper body more and voila, Wesley come up straight, and was able to power from the drive leg. We loped circle after circle, as I concentrated on how different (and correct) this feels versus the motorcycling. How was m body different? How did my seat bones feel? Was I breathing? As I memorized all that this felt like, I continued to work on my breathing, and as I slowed down, so did Wesley. I was able to keep a feel on the reins, but give him more slack.

It made so much sense.

A Few Discoveries, and a Bad Milo!

I gave Milo some good-lovin' scratches halfway through cleaning the pasture. Another pasture left to clean, but I wanted to give Milo a little attention in the meantime. Finally it was time to catch the red pony, and as I entered the pasture, it started to rain. Milo was in the far corner of the pasture, and as I neared he lifted his head and trotted straight towards me. Good Boy, Milo, I thought, eager to get to the barn before getting soaked. Just as the thought ran through my mind, and Milo was about fifteen feet from me, he turned tail and took off across the pasture with Chica.

Last week I witnessed Chica pull this stunt to her owner, and once Milo decided it would be fun to do so as well. It only took a few minutes of his lunacy before he decided it was in his best interest to come to me. But this time, the both of them were flat our refusing to be caught. I could barely get within fifty feet of either one and they would book it to the other side of the pasture. Round and round we went, me walking a line of about twenty feet back and forth from their running to one corner to the other. I was starting to get mad. I was getting drenched by this summer rain, I already have been suffering from a head cold (again) and after already spending my energy cleaning stalls at Sarahs and cleaning both pastures, I did not have the energy to go chasing after some hooligan horses.

A solid twelve minutes into this insanity, and I decided I would fool the dumb beasts with "oats" in their feed pans. I tossed a couple small pebbles into one of the buckets and shook it in the shelter. Slowly the two horses meandered their way towards the stalls, curiosity and eager stomachs taking over their shenanigans. Chica entered the stall, with Milo closely behind her outside. As she checked out the false oats, I got a rope around Milo's head. Removing the fly mask, there was a brief moment as Chica left the stall I thought Milo was going to take off after her. But I got the halter on and some firm words in, and Milo sure as hell got his booty worked right there in the pasture.

I know this can go two ways - some of you might think that Im only reinforcing to Milo to not come to me in the pasture by working him as soon as he is caught. But from experience with a few horses pulling this stunt, I have found that they tend to associate their bad behavior with discipline. Last week when Milo did this, the very next day he didnt think twice about leaving Chica and the grass for me. Im hoping this pans out the same way when I get him tomorrow. Either way, Chica is a bad influence! And Milo is a little stinker for following her lead and blowing Mom off.

I felt bad about working him on a tight circle on the slick grass, but Milo needed to understand that twelve minutes of deliberate refusal is absolutely unacceptable. Not to mention its a big pasture, there's no way I can chase on after him.

So anyways, I brought Milo into the barn, who promptly called out three times while in the cross ties. A few swats and he gave up the call. And I decided that more ground work was needed before getting on. Out came the Peggy halter and line. Working in the arena, I was pleasantly surprised to find how connected Milo was to the line. I also made a few observations:

First: I had removed the line from the inside, so it was fastened over the nose and on the off side of the halter, so the line was not looped around his neck like I have been keeping it, allowing me for more length of line when out on the "longe" circle. He seemed to respond well to this single outside connection, and in fact, ate up the line and reached out for a larger circle. This is unusual for Milo, who is usually much more comfortable only a lead rope's length away from me (most likely stemming from all the close-quarters Natural Horsemanship stuff I previously had done with him). Interestingly, as I watched Sarah longe a few horses that morning, I was wondering how I might be able to convince Milo to stay out on the line without the excessive coaxing from my body, voice, and longe whip as have been needed.

Why was he willing to extend the circle today? Could the excess line have been all he needed to increase his circle? Was this what he had been really waiting for all along? I think it goes a little deeper.

Second: my body felt more "in tune" within myself. From reading Melissa's post  and talking with Sarah about the recent "Peggy day" held at her facility this weekend, I learned a more significant difference between "twist" and "rotation" in the body. Sarah said that Peggy commented that the word "twist" provokes a psychological attachment to tight and stiffness. Whereas "rotation" was much more "open" and with a softer feel to it. Think about it; twist is a tightening action, like when you twist a rope. Rotation is a free motion, with no retrain. So thinking about that in terms of our "torso twisties" Sarah has had us do when riding to find our bodies, that signifies more of a torso only action. While the hips do follow suit, the brain thinks of the upper body mostly, instead of the seat. Now, thinking about rotating in the saddle, and suddenly an emphasis of a rotation through the whole body is established. Hips and seat rotating.

I thought about this as I worked Milo on the line. Instead of "torso twisting" I did "body rotations". With each comb of the line, I rotated my entire body all the way down to my feet with each comb. Suddenly, I felt more aware of my posture, and I automatically went into neutral pelvis. I watched my horse, and he too began reaching more from his hind legs, and evenly holding connection on the line, even at the trot. I pushed this into the lope, and the first few strides were beautiful. Milo was driving with the hind and coming up over his back while holding the connection. Then I fell into my own bad habit of "following" him as he loped. This eliminated my body rotation, and just like that, Milo lost the connection, lost his impulsion, and fell to the trot. Aha, something more to be aware of.

I changed the line from the off side to the right side, and combed the line to prepare Milo to hold connection on the off side (remember, the line runs from the inside over the nose and connects to the outside. So while I am on the off side, the line is "attached" on the right side, and vice versa for opposite direction). I looked at my horse and made another observation, third. My horse was not sweating up on his neck, which is typically the first location he begins to sweat at, but was sweating up near his gaskin and the flank area. Very interesting indeed. Milo was connected and truly driving from the rear, pushing himself forward and up. This was the kind of sweat pattern I have been wanting to find under saddle. How can I get this connection while undersaddle?

On the off side, I made a fourth observation: Milo dropped himself excessively into me, and needed many many reminders to stay on the line and holding himself up. This is the same side he has been dropping while under saddle. Coincidence? I think most issues undersaddle can be worked on and developed on the ground. What does this mean? I see more off side work here in our near future.

Undersaddle, Milo felt great. I kept my ankles relaxed, and allowed my core to stabilize myself. He felt fluid and relaxed over his back, and the trot work was exceptional. Taking to the lope, I found issues staying centered and finding the left seat bone. Milo dropped away a lot on the right side, but with outside rein support and some bumping on the inside with some corresponding leg aid (also, keeping the outside leg further back I believe helped a bit too), he eventually began holding up the right side. I also found in our turn arounds to the right, I was collapsing my body, resulting in a terrible spin. More to remember.

I pulled off the saddle and found perfectly even sweat marks - on both sides. More Peggy work is definitely in order. Why I find myself straying from it to begin with, I will never know. The results I discover in myself and my horse should be enough for me to stick with it on a much more consistent schedule. It just takes hitting a wall I guess to knock some sense back into me.

Finally, Starting to Get It

At the last clinic I attended of Peggy's, she noted that our horses should stop in their neutral position. That is, with a lowered head and weight on the rear. However, most horses learn that they stop on their forehand and therefore their heads come up when stopping. She used a couple of examples in the connected groundwork with the student on different "spots" you can apply pressure (level 1 or 2, examples of this given in her book) to help the horse stay connected and telescoped as they transition down to the halt. At the clinic I didnt get a clear shot of those three different locations, and have since been fumbling with my attempts to work on our neutral halting with Milo on the ground.

So at the end of my last lesson, I asked Sarah to demonstrate the different positions for me. One is pressure on the cheek just underneath the side piece of the halter. Another is right in the center of their neck, and for this location its your entire forearm. Sarah showed me with her arm grasping some mane, and from wrist to elbow making a steady contact against Milo's neck perpendicular. A good visual for me was it was right between two spots on his neck. She said Milo would probably respond the best from this location and she showed me how tight he was at that point in his neck.

I experimented with these two locations as I worked on our groundwork at home. I also incorporated more combing the line to help Milo find connection again, as well as combing the line above my head. Milo was taking the line and connecting, and I would encourage him to become more active in his hind end by increasing the energy above his croup with the lunge whip (only tapping Milo if no response above). As we would move downward in our transition, I combed the line gaining some until I was right at his head with the line drawn like a bow. With my inside arm, I tried the press on his neck as shown by Sarah. At first, Milo tensed up, but eventually stretched forward into the connection of the line and allowed his neck to relax. However, this did not seem to be the spot for him to stop in neutral posture. Instead, even with the connection on the line and a telescoped neck, he would stop heavy on the front and raise his head.

So I repeated our forward and instead tried with my inside hand to apply pressure to his cheek. This location too allowed him to stretch forward into contact, and as I slowed my body and breathing down, we soon crept down to a halt in neutral position. It took a few rotations, however, but I remembered Peggy demonstrating it on horses at the clinic, and mentioning that it can take time for them to learn how to stop in this new position. So I would allow Milo all the time to process to allow his body to stop balanced. I repeated this whole process on the other side as well. I always find it so surprising that by the end of these groundwork exercises, how complacent and content my horse is. No longer grabbing at the halter or bridle, or looking around at others passing the arena or riding in it. He gets that "zen face" I showed to you before, and licks and chews, totally happy with himself and his surroundings. If that is all we get out of any of the groundwork exercises we do, than I am pleased with that.


Another exercise Peggy demonstrated at the clinic, and one I described in that post, was moving the shoulders around. Excerpted from that post:


"Another good reminder was to stay soft in our bodies, and Peggy demonstrated an exercise I have read from her book, but didnt quite know how to apply it. For horses who are stuck in their front feet (the good majority of handled horses, Peggy commented) this exercise is to help them unstick their feet and bend through their neck. She would apply cheek pressure (and by pressure, its more just touch), and with equal consistency with her "active" right hand (applying the pressure) and her "outside" hand (those are terms I just came up with to describe with), then with her body she would ask the horse to move away and unstick his feet. This was not pressing the horse over, it was opening the possibility for the horse to do so, and if he chose not to, she brought his head back towards her, then tried again, or walked off as necessary. In this exercise, Peggy made an excellent comparison to that "outside hand" as being that consistent support the horse needs, much like an outside rein when riding. This really hit home for me, reminding me the importance of creating consistent connection on that line."

Typically, it seemed, if the horse wanted to stop on their front with their head in the air, usually their shoulders were stuck "with drills from their hooves into the ground" as Peggy put it. I experimented with the same exercise she had shown by encouraging Milo to move his front feet as I encouraged him to turn from the standstill. I was surprised to find how readily my horse moved away. There were a few moments of a slight stick, but I would bring his head back to straight, and try again. I was pleased to find that my horse was not as stuck on the front end as I had anticipated.

Finally,  I have had another "Aha" moment for the stop, and actually for most any use on a line as well. Peggy says in her book to think "up" with the wrist. I have read that and heard her say it many times now, but never really got what she meant by that. The other day I was leading Milo in the barn aisle and as I went to halt him, my hand came down wanting the head to come down. This only created resistance and Milo's head came up, planting his front feet. I backed him, again with my hand thinking "down" but suddenly realized that that was only encouraging his head to go up. I remembered back a few months ago when my farrier said that he moves with the horse when they move. If he tightened up against them, it only creates more tension. So I led Milo down the aisle way again, and this time, thought "up" with my wrist. Wouldnt you know, Milo stopped balanced and with his head down. I backed him, still thinking "up" and he backed with his spine elevated, and his head down.

It's funny how you can read or hear something so many times, and not fully understand or practice what you keep replaying in your head. But then the moment comes where it clicks and makes total sense, and it's like your horse takes a deep breath and says, "finally, she gets it."